


as brothers, we fall.

by sonsoflucis



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Blood, Death, Implied Death, Injury, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 09:31:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13567740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonsoflucis/pseuds/sonsoflucis
Summary: under the assumption the bros lose their weapons when noctis falls.





	as brothers, we fall.

Gladio’s sword broke through the daemon’s hide, weakening it enough for Prompto to deal the final blow, sealing its fate. It burst into an array of multicolored fragments, the closest thing to stars they’d seen in years. Prompto high-fived the shield, wiping a tiny trickle of blood off his upper lip.

“We still make a great team,” he mused, shooting a smaller daemon materializing near the grand staircase. The daemon shattered before it even finished spawning and Prompto pumped his fist in the air. 

“One short,” Gladio murmured behind gritted teeth, looking up at the Citadel with anguish soaked eyes. It had been only moments since Noctis had ascended to summon the kings of old, but it felt like ages.  _We’d only just gotten him back. We were supposed to have more time. I couldn’t even give him a decent goodbye._

“Gladio, we need to make sure Noctis can complete the ceremony undisturbed!” Ignis bellowed, gingerly tugging at the bit of his uniform caught on a piece of distorted metal work. He tipped his head toward the hoard of daemons spawning, a seemingly relentless wave of spite and scourge. Gladio turned back to the strategist, a weak attempt at a joke to lighten the mood hanging off his lips, when he saw the wide, jagged gash zigzagging up Ignis’ mangled calf. 

“Iggy, what the hell happened!?” Gladio hissed, trying not to draw the daemon’s attention to his wounded friend. “Stay there, I’ll come to you. Don’t move-”

“I’ll be all right, defend the Citadel!” Ignis retorted earnestly, tossing his shattered glasses aside. 

“Like hell I’m leaving you!” the shield spat, ducking behind the hollow shell of a car. 

Ignis sat under a large, crumbling chunk of stone, grasping at his uniform, trying to find a thin piece to tear off to use as a tourniquet. “Gladiolus Amicitia, as the King’s Shield, your duty is to protect-” 

“To  _protect_ him!?” Gladio snarled from his hiding place. The daemons drew ever closer, throaty grumbles echoing across the ruined streets, their cries bouncing off of a city turning to ash. Gladio crouched lower, stealing a glance at Prompto who had his hands over his ears, wincing at the daemon’s rage. 

“No, you are  _here_ , Gladio, to see him through to the end. To bring the  _dawn_!” Ignis snapped, grimacing as his leg brushed against the ground. He shakily lowered himself down to tend to his laceration, a hunk of his Crownsguard attire in his hands, ready to become makeshift gauze. “You are here to see that your sister sees the dawn!” 

“You leave Iris out of this, Ignis, I swear to the Six…” 

“G-Gladio, I-” 

“Shut  _up_ , Prom!” Gladio shouted. “Before you get yourself killed!” 

Prompto bit back a nasty insult but thought better, a shiver rolling through him as the daemons screeched angrily, searching for their prey.  _There were too many._ The gunman instinctively reached for his pistol and felt only air. “Huh?” He held his palm up, summoning his gun, yet nothing happened. Prompto shook his hand, trying again. “I- what… What the fuck?” Nothing. Again and again he channeled his weapon and time and time again it failed. Nothing. Nothing.  _Nothing_. Not even the familiar electricity coursing through his veins before it materialized. 

“Gladio, something’s wrong!” Prompto cried, crawling further into his hiding spot. 

“I don’t  _want_ to be the Shield anymore!” Gladio shrieked, clenching his fists. “I want to be his friend! His ally!  _We should be in there_!” 

“So we can do what, exactly? Allow ourselves a front row seat to his de-” 

“Don’t you say it. Don’t you  _fucking_ say it!” the shield warned, moving to a closer, taller bit of debris, avoiding the daemon’s search, but only just. 

“You knew coming in here what would happen. The lore foretold his destiny before you were ever a thought in your mother’s womb!” 

“To hell with legend, Ignis!” Gladio’s voice cracked, his brawny form shuddering in the shadow of the debris. “To hell with it-” 

“Gladio, listen!” Prompto cried, crawling over to the brute of a man. “Gladio, something’s wrong, my gun, it won’t-” 

“I told you to shut up, kid!” He knocked Prompto back easily, but Prom could only focus on the thundering footsteps of the pack of daemons overtaking them. The gunman regained his balance and gripped Gladio’s collar tightly.

“Gladio, my gun is gone! I can’t summon it!” Prompto bawled hoarsely, shaking him. “What is going  _on_? What does this mean!?  _Gladio, what happened_?!” 

Gladio yanked Prompto off of him coldly. “What on earth are you going on about?” Ignis stopped wrapping his leg, face paling. 

“Prompto, what did you say?” he called out, sitting up straight. 

“The w-weapons,” he choked out painfully. “Noct…”

Gladio glared at the blonde wildly, mouth twisted into a sneer. He extended his arm, waiting for the weight of his sword to fall into his open palm. Nothing happened. Gladio’s eyes widened, reaching his arm out again. “No…” He looked up at the blonde and Prompto saw genuine fear flicker across the man’s scarred face. He’d only ever seen Gladio frightened to that extent one other time. …in Gralea. 

“No, dammit, NO!” Gladio’s chest rose and fell violently, his breathing erratic. 

“Prompto,  _RUN_!” Ignis’ voice echoed amongst the white noise consuming Prompto’s entire existence. Like the world was encased in molasses, time ticked by at an agonizing snail’s pace. His eyes traveled up the rocky debris slowly, falling upon the enormous, fanged face of one of the daemons, claws already swinging towards them. Before either of the men could react, a horrible cracking noise vibrated through the air as the stone split, erupting into shrapnel and dust. The daemon’s other claw came down unceremoniously, sending Prompto sailing backward into a fallen lamp post, Gladio tumbling harshly next to him, a resounding pop and splinter drawing a pained howl from his broken body. Prompto coughed, clutching his side, only getting a moment to adjust to the pain before the daemon delivered another righteous blow to the companions. Gladio heard Prompto’s strangled cry, but couldn’t see him for the thick, grey haze of dust coating the area. 

“Prom!” Gladio choked out, frantically scrambling to stand. The daemon swiped at him furiously, missing him by a hair. Gladio’s left arm hung limply by his side, void of all pain, a more worrisome predicament. He gripped it tightly, limping over to where Ignis hid, sliding deftly behind whatever he could to avoid the daemon who’d lost him in the haze. “Iggy, get up,” Gladio ordered bluntly, kicking his boot. “Prom is down, we gotta get him.” Gladio shrugged off his Crownsguard jacket and tested his arm, feeling for a dislocated joint or a break, bruises blossoming over his tattooed flesh. “Ignis, come on, the dust is clearing,” he hissed sharply, the outline of the daemons growing clearer in the foggy streetlamp glow. He dropped his arm and bit back an unholy noise at the pain shooting through his chest and back. A whisper of a whimper escaped his lips, dying on a sharp exhale. “You ready?” Gladio questioned, shaking his head and moving to Ignis’ side. 

“Iggy, did you hear… me…” The shield’s voice trailed off, driven away by shock and horror. Ignis was splayed out where he hid, an intimidating pool of blood oozing out from under his lifeless form. His hair matted with more crimson, a crisp calm etched across his face. “I-Iggy…?” The strategist didn’t move, didn’t breathe, eyes half-lidded and cloudy. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was merely stargazing. Fat, wet tears pushed through the grime on Gladio’s cheeks, falling onto the cool asphalt. Gladio knelt beside him, his boots squelching in the growing puddle of blood. 

“Iggy, please,” Gladio whispered, sniffling. “Iggy, we gotta help Prom.” 

Ignis’ skin held no light, no warmth. Gladio leaned over him, pressing his forehead to Ignis’ chest and weeping uncontrollably. He chanted his friend’s name like a prayer, hair falling around his face, sticking to his sweaty skin. Maybe if he said it with enough conviction, he would stir, a reprimand primed to scold him for not fighting. 

But there would be no miracles tonight. The daemons crushed anything they could get their claws on, stomping through burning reminders of a kingdom doomed to darkness. His ears pricked, picking up faint footfalls headed toward him. Gladio slowly raised his head, squinting into the dirt cloud, eyes locked on a stumbling shadow. Prompto gasped, moving past the remaining hiding places, seeing daemons where nothing lurked, doubled over, breath rattling. He fell at Ignis’ side, his uniform in tatters, and steadied himself on his shoulder, wheezing.

“Guys, are you-” he stopped mid-sentence and sucked in a breath, recoiling in disgust. “Oh my Gods!” he wailed, scrabbling backward, slipping in the coagulating blood. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!” Prompto held up his crimson-stained hands, pure terror taking hold of him. He desperately wiped his palms on his pants, long after all the blood was gone. Before he could rub his flesh raw, Gladio took Prompto’s slender hand in his own, calloused skin catching on the soft edges of Prom’s palm. He tugged at him, motioning for him to sit on the side housing his defunct arm. Amber eyes met blue, sharing a solemn truth, both blinking back tears, both accepting what was to come. Taking a lungful of air, Prompto begrudgingly rose, wincing at the deep injury erupting in his side, and plopped down on Gladio’s left, tilting his head to rest on him. Gladio slipped his hand under Ignis’ blood slick arm, cradling his broad shoulders as tenderly as he could, hoisting Ignis up until he rested in his lap. The shield looked down at Prompto’s red splotched face, his puffy eyes, and kissed the top of his head. The weapons were gone which meant… 

_The line of Lucis has ended. Noctis is dead._

Faltering breaths overtook him, tears falling once more, this time onto Iggy’s peaceful face. Gladio swiped them away with his thumb, leaning his head on Prompto’s. The blonde was sobbing quietly to himself, feeling a rapidly expanding numbness settling over his body. 

Gladio sniffed, clearing his throat. “I, uh… I really… love you guys. I-” he groaned, reeling from the pain emanating in his dead arm. “…I am proud to… to have been on this journey with you three.” 

Prompto sidled up closer, the daemon’s booming footsteps headed right for them. “Your dad w-would’ve been proud, Gladio,” he mumbled, lip quivering. “Iris has the bravest big brother around.” 

Gladio chuckled softly, his thumb caressing Ignis’ cheek. “You know, you should’ve asked Cindy out, man. She has… such a thing for your scrawny ass.”

“You think?” Prompto answered brightly, closing his eyes. 

“Oh, I know she does. Those big, beautiful eyes batting in your direction any time we passed through. You were too b-busy with that damn camera…” 

Prompto laughed, a little more tired this time. “I would’ve made her so… so h-happy,” he sighed. Gladio’s face fell. “I’m going to miss them all… so much.” 

Prompto drifted in and out of consciousness, coughing up a mouthful of blood. He didn’t even have enough energy to stop it from running down his chin. Gladio buried his face in the blonde’s hair, the daemons surrounding them. He pulled Ignis’ body in closer, bracing himself for their onslaught. The daemons grabbed the cement and metal covering the three heroes and tossed it to the side effortlessly, roaring. Gladio let out one last breath and opened his eyes, staring the largest daemon down, his final act of defiance. 

_We’re coming, Noct._


End file.
